Lying. . . Stuck in my Grave | Short Poem No. 109

lying. . . stuck in my grace
Photo by Jakub Sofranko on Unsplash

So. . . Here I am. . . Lying. . . Stuck in my grave.
But who I fell with appears to have left.
I guess strong ambitions can’t always save.
They leave you forsaken, reeking of death.

Ironic, it’s the eve of Halloween
And it’s the hour I realize I’m dead.
A pumpkin spice latte, so unforeseen,
would be the last supper before my bed.

I have dark humor to jeer at myself.
But. . . it stings. . . to be abandoned by love.
It’s one thing to lose your health. . . or your wealth.
But you left me. . . no reason. . . no motive. . .

But I remember, once what I have read.
That Jesus can bring back to life the dead.

I Heard You Scream and Yell

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Author: Jonathan Pines

I'm writing with all of life's saltiness, perfecting poetry in the process.

9 thoughts on “Lying. . . Stuck in my Grave | Short Poem No. 109”

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